Gods & Monsters
by SilverNightmares
Summary: This is the tale of a future Queen, her King to be, and his brother who loved her.
1. Preface

**A/N:** Hello and welcome to my story, I will say this once now that **nothing in this story belongs to me** except for a handful of OCs and the rest is all Marvel's or part of The Prose Edda (which by the way Marvel really took some artistic liberties, by the gods they're all like, super OOC, ya'll know Loki is not actually a frost giant and is Odin's ginger blood brother from the chaos realm, right? that he's actually associated with wildfire and his parents names roughly translate to lightning and twig? sorry, had to rant about that, y'all will be getting your Marvel gods here, don't worry)

Quick warning, this little preface has some **major Infinty War spoilers** so if you have yet to see it, close your eyes, scroll to the bottom of the page and get to chapter one as soon as possible which takes place about a hundred years or so before the events of the first Thor film.

Also, as this story is rated M (edited from MA to M), you can expect violence, coarse language, alcohol/drug use, and at least several scenes with sexual content so, ah, viewer discretion is strongly advised.

I will put trigger warnings on any chapters that may be a bit more brutal. I understand how a few words can take your mind back to a place of sheer torment so please do not feel uncomfortable letting me know if I should have put a trigger warning on a chapter.

Now, without further ado…

Preface

 **Earth**

 **Wakanda**

 **2018**

"You should… have aimed for the head," the mad Titan gasped out as a victorious grin slowly painted its way across his face. Thor froze, registering Thanos' words. His hands were still gripped tightly around his battle axe, Stormbreaker, forcing the massive blade deeper into the center of Thanos' chest.

Gleaming gold shimmered in his peripheral vision and with a simple snap, the universe as they knew it came to an end.

The formerly flawless gauntlet was cracking and steaming, burning the purple flesh of its master.

"What did you do?" Thor gasped in dismay, suddenly feeling the weight of his failure. " _What Did You Do?!"_

His roar echoed around the forest and he could hear the sound of people rushing towards them, but Thanos was utterly disinterested. A swirl of blue energy formed around the Titan and he stepped back into it, vanishing.

Stormbreaker fell to the ground with a dull, metallic clang, splattering the forest floor with deep purple blood. Thor didn't pick it up. It didn't matter that it was one of the most powerful weapons in creation. It was useless now.

"Where did he go?" Steve limped up next to him, his head whipping around wildly as he scanned their surroundings. "Thor... where did he go?"

Thor couldn't bring himself to answer. He was sure Steve had already figured it out.

"Steve!"

Both men turned to see Bucky arrive in the clearing.

There was something wrong with him. His limbs seemed to be dissolving into a fine brown dust, taken away with the breeze. Bucky took a step toward them and tumbled forward. Only his machine gun hit the ground, raising a cloud of brown ash.

Thor watched in numb horror as Steve limped over to where his best friend had been standing and fell to his knees.

" _Thor!_ " He heard his love scream and she came barreling through the woods and crashed into him, clinging to his chest.

Thor wrapped his arms around her and rested his head against hers in relief. "Thank Ymir," he said, breathing in the sweet honey scent of her hair. "I don't think I could bear to live another day if I lost you too."

"I can-I can feel them," she cried. "It's not like death. It's wrong. They just… they're gone."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It's all my fault. I failed."

She pressed her forehead against his own and lifted a hand to his cheek.

"Look at me," she commanded softly. Thor kept his eyes on the ground, he was too ashamed of losing, it was his fault their friends were crumbling to dust around them.

She sighed. "This is not your fault. He had all the infinity stones, he can control the universe. Nobody can defeat that."

He felt her begin to pull away. He glanced down expecting to see her reassuring violet eyes, but all he saw was ash.


	2. Chapter 1: Breath of Life

Chapter One: Breath of Life

Vanaheim

Hyperborean Forest

1804 CE

The Vanaheimian court had been under attack for over a month. It was not an obvious threat; in fact, very few of the nobles were even aware that someone was attempting to assassinate the royal family. Three times already had a taster or servant been killed, and it brought forth the possibility that the death of the queen, a little over eight months beforehand, might not have been of natural causes.

As not to show any weakness to his power, King Hoenir had chosen to keep the circumstances hushed: only his Advisors and Captain of Guard were to know to details of the assaults. His daughter, Princess Asynja Hoenirdottir, and her ladies only discovered the threats when a handmaiden had had the flesh burned off her hands from an acidic poison when tucking a warming pan in the princess' bedsheets.

It was because of this, that Hoenir had decided to send his daughter away to 'form bonds with her betrothed' in Asgard. However, little to his knowledge, the princess' caravan was going to have to fight to reach its destination.

Deep in the hyperborean forest, two kilometres east of the Vanaheimian Bifrost link, Asynja sat in a litter carried by twelve soldiers. She was bundled up tight in thick fabrics and furs to fight off the chill of the land. She hated to think of the bitter cold that her guards were exposed to, and hoped the enchantments cast upon their armor and the physical exertion of carrying her so far would keep them somewhat warm. While Vanaheim was often described as humid and exotic due to their six-year summers, their winters could make a Frost Giant shiver.

The Frost Giants were the reason she was betrothed to the prince of Asgard in the first place. While Jotunheim was not officially an enemy to Vanaheim, they were far from friendly to her realm, so King Hoenir chose to become allies with Asgard to take advantage of their truce with the Jotuns. All he needed to do was have an heir marry into the Asgardian royal family, and with Asynja as his only heir, he quickly offered her up. She couldn't complain about the ordeal, Asgard was the richest and most advanced of all the realms. Their people were genetically similar in appearance, and biologically as well which meant that there would be no problems producing an heir. She'd once feared having to marry one of the fire demons of Muspelheim to end the tri-century blood feud. Fortunately, her father had some decency as to not force her into such a predicament.

She had visited Asgard twice before. Both times as a child, and so long ago that she could only conjure up memories of endless golden walls, and having her hair woven by a woman, whom she'd been told was Queen Frigga: her Mother's second cousin once removed, and wife to Odin the Allfather.

A yell pulled her from her thoughts.

Asynja was jostled forward as the soldiers carrying her picked up speed. The sound of footfalls echoed in her ears, far more than just the dozen or so from the guards accompanying her.

She pushed aside a sliver of velvet curtain to see what was chasing after them.

Nothing! She could see nothing outside due to the white-out of snow blustering down from the sky. The trees were bare and provided no canopy to ease the storm. Yet, despite the howl of the wind, she could hear the sounds of men, hundreds of them, running through the storm. An invisible army.

There was a faint whistling noise, and with it all Hel broke loose. Arrows tore through the fabric walls of her litter and lodged into the pillows, unleashing a flurry of feathers within the small space. Crimson splattered against pale blue curtains as an arrow hit target and burst through her shoulder.

Asynja let out a scream of pain, which was joined by the wails of the soldiers beneath her, who fell victim to fatal hits. The litter tipped over, crushing the broken bodies of her men. She landed on her injured shoulder, and screeched again in anguish.

She attempted to pull at the curtains, but found that her left arm hung limply at her side. Using her right hand, she managed to shove the material aside and crawled from the litter.

"Fajarki! Siggeir!" She called frantically to two of her guards laying out on the path. She received only a gargling wheeze in response. There would be little she could do for them, so she struggled to her feet and with the skirts of her dress bunched in her working hand, she left them behind.

Like some sort of demented bird with a short feathered tail from her back and a bloodied beak at her breast, she took flight through the woods. The cape of her dress billowed out like wings behind her, and pulled against the stem of the arrow, making it wiggle and splinter into her flesh.

Tears formed in her eyes as the harsh wind blinded her vision. She ran on still, praying that she would be able to make out the shapes of anything blocking her path. Almost as soon as she made her prayer, she stumbled over the roots of a tree. She reached out gropingly for the tree and ducked behind it, using the trunk as a barrier between herself and her attackers.

Another round of arrows twanged into the bark of the tree.

Asynja wiped frantically at her eyes, smearing blood over cheeks like scarlet war-paint. She poked her head out from the tree and searched for her attackers. There were white shapes moving in the distance, camouflaged by the falling snow.

She mentally scolded herself for not thinking of camouflaging herself the moment the attack began. Her violet gown would have made her an easy target for her assailants, the dark hue contrasting boldly against the blank canvas of land around her. She needed to get the dress off, but to do so would require yanking out the arrow; and if she did that, she would surely bleed to death, if she didn't freeze first.

Her second option was to use magick. There was a risk of course, wasting her energy to cast an illusion; but, risking death gave her a much better chance at survival than choosing certain death.

She took a few breaths to steady herself, then closed her eyes.

" _You shall suffer a traitor's death! Every one of you_!" Asynja roared, her voice magically enhanced to echo through the forest. The force of her call created a shockwave, that blasted snow from the ground, and changed the direction of the wind.

The crown princess ran out from behind her tree, straight for the army, and was immediately shot down with an arrow to the heart. Before the body hit the ground however, it vanished.

The forest seemed to erupt in an explosion of violet. Dozens of copies of the princess were running about in a panic, providing the perfectly awful commotion that Asynja needed to escape.

She pulled herself to a stand and prepared to move.

At what sounded to be a mere few feet away, was the noise of snow crunching beneath a single set of feet.

Asynja crept around the tree, exposing herself to the oncoming assailant.

It was a man, dressed in ragged clothes with greasy hair and a shaggy beard. He was covered in a white powder-like substance, flour perhaps, and was very much dead.

She was horrified by the sight. His neck had been slashed and exposed the inner lining of his gangrene riddled trachea. One of his eyes was entirely a clouded over blue-grey, and the other had fallen out and dangled loosely against his cheek from the optic nerve.

He was undead. The entire army was, which meant only one thing: her enemy was a necromancer.

With speed she didn't know she was capable of, she ripped one of the arrows from the trunk of the tree and shoved it into the cavern of the creature's skull. The rotting head seemed to burst from the force she'd hit it with.

She ran from the vile thing

Gods, she smelled awful. The blackened, rancid blood of her undead kill was splattered all over her face and chest. She could only hope it hadn't managed to infect her wound.

"Princess!" A voice shouted, partially distorted by the wailing of the wind.

Asynja ignored the call and continued to run. Perhaps it may have been a savior, but it was most likely a trap- and she was hardly interested in risking that.

The bifrost link had to be less than a kilometre away, its enormous point made of three towering crystal shards was just barely visible through the tops of the trees, which had begun to thin as she drew nearer.

Another arrow wizzed past her, narrowly grazing her ear. She yelped in surprise, and decided to duck her head down as she ran. Getting hit anywhere on her body would be painful, but having an arrow lodged in her brain would result in an immediate death.

Soon she could see the great golden gates of the bifrost, wedged between shimmering rainbow crystal. It was apparently unaffected by the cold and the snow- as all inter-dimensional portals should be. Her skin felt warmer just looking at it. In just a few moments, she would be safe.

A wave of her hand sent a blast of energy to the gate, and its doors crashed open.

She jerked to a halt. _What if the monsters turn around and attack my people?_ She panicked. Of course it was important to keep the royal bloodline alive- but it would be much more important to keep her kingdom from utter despair.

A deep voice spoke from beside her. "Princess, Heimdall has-"

Asynja reflexively kicked the speaker in the chest and watched him soar several meters through the air to crash into the trunk of a tree.

She recognized the gleam of Asgardian armor and quickly realized her mistake.

The man staggered to a stand and lifted his hands in a sign of surrender. "I mean you no harm, my lady. I have come to rescue you."

He was very large, she noticed, well over a head taller than her, and at least twice as wide with his rippling muscles. Quite intimidating to say the least.

She saw a gleam on the edge of her peripheral vision.

"Get down!"

She flung her hand out and put into stasis an arrow that was no more than a finger's width from his golden temple.

"It would appear, Savior, that it is I who will be doing the rescuing." Asynja retorted.

His eyes flashed steel and she could see she'd wounded his pride. The man took a step towards her, opening his mouth to object.

There was a loud _thwack_ as the arrow was released from its stasis and embedded itself in the crystal of the bifrost link.

He closed his mouth, his head bowing slightly in acceptance.

Asynja placed her functional hand on her hip, whilst her other hung limply at her side. "Now that you are here, warrior, would you like to assist me in vanquishing these woods of an undead battalion?"

"Princess, you are injured. I must demand that you-"

"You will demand nothing of me, warrior. Know where you stand." Asynja hissed.

"I know exactly where I stand- I am Thor of Asgard, son of Odin the Allfather, and heir to the throne." He stated proudly.

Asynja paused. Thor was her betrothed. Being that she was going to live in Asgard with his family, an argument over command was the last way she wanted to start their alliance.

"If I leave now, they may attack my people." She tried, hoping to make him understand.

Thor's brow softened as he glanced over her. "Your intent is true, my lady, but you've lost so much blood that you must be near death. I will send an army of Asgard's finest warriors-" he paused when he realized she was ignoring him. "What are you doing?"

Asynja's eyes were closed and she was mumbling under her breath in a tongue Thor did not recognize.

"What must be done." She replied blankly and turned towards the sky.

Her mouth opened so wide that it looked as though it might unhinge, and from it a glowing green mist poured out and drifted into the woods.

The ground began to tremble wildly, knocking the two royals to the ground.

"What did you do?!" Thor roared in a panic and crawled to the princess who laid terribly still in the snow. He lifted her to his lap, hoping to keep her weight off her injuries

There was fresh blood dribbling from her nose, ears, and mouth, but she still had enough spark in her to flash him a smile.

"I don't need your warriors."

The ancient, ice covered trees were moving towards the undead, their giant root systems tearing apart the ground. Stone and clay were tossed up from under the deep layer of permafrost.

Thor watched in shock as the exposed terrain began to meld together to form gollums and stone giants. They lifted boulders the size of houses and threw them in the direction of the army. One picked up a fallen tree that had to be well over two thousand years old before it fell, and wielded it as a warhammer to use against the oncoming army.

He was brought back to his senses as he felt the body in his arms become limp.

"Heimdall!"


	3. Chapter 2: Arrow

A/N: I'm going to update every Thursday, y'know, because Thor's day. Actually that's just the most convenient day for timing out my schedule.

Chapter Two: Arrow

Asgard

1809CE

The royal court of Asgard had been bustling with frantic energy for over a week as they prepared for the arrival of the Vanaheimian princess. Every vase, sculpture, and piece of silverware had been polished three times over. Colourful banners and flags hung from every streetlamp and adorned each shopfront in the city. The rainbow bridge leading from the palace grounds to the Bifrost had been lined with thick garlands of wildflowers - all two kilometers of it. Loki, the mischievous young prince of Asgard, was sick of it.

All the opulence and extravagance was just another way to celebrate his older brother Thor's ascent to the throne. The arrival of his betrothed was being treated as though it was the royal wedding, when in actuality there would just be _another_ noble girl in the palace throwing herself at the future king.

Loki tapped his foot on the ground impatiently and turned to his mother, Frigga.

"How much longer is this going to take?" he asked.

The whole of the Asgardian nobility had gathered within the Bifrost to await the return of Thor with his future bride in tow. They were all wearing their finest robes and ceremonial armor. Loki left his helmet behind.

"We are welcoming the future Monarch of Vanaheim to our halls," Frigga reminded him. She was dressed in a gown of radiant yellow silk, and wore one of her finer tiaras for the occasion. "It is of the uttermost importance for the future of our alliance that we show her respect and kindness with a proper greeting."

"Father isn't here," Loki pointed out.

Frigga glanced pointedly at him. Neither could say it out loud in front of the nobles, but Odin happened to like a dramatic entrance. He would most likely be arriving on his eight-legged steed, Sleipnir, flanked by twelve of his personal guard.

" _Something is wrong_ ," Heimdall, the all-seeing gatekeeper announced suddenly. He leapt into action, lifting his greatsword, Hofund, and then thrust it into the keyhole that activated the Bifrost.

Loki ran his eyes over the great domed room. Thousands of gears made of Asgardian bronze linked together like latticework and arched up to the top of the dome where, through a small hole, the light of the stars and moons shone through. The walls began to creak and turn, the shape of the room shifting as the gears spun wildly and pulled the celestial skylight down to the floor, creating a portal.

There was a flash of bright light as Thor and the princess arrived.

Something _was_ wrong, Loki stood agape at the scene unfolding before him.

Thor was cradling a woman against his chest. She was mostly hidden, wrapped up in his red cape, but Loki noticed a sallow arm dangling limply from the bundle.

"Send for healers! _Immediately!_ " Thor roared, frightening the nobles standing nearby. His armor was dripping with blood and what appeared to be some sort of tar-like substance. Droplets of water fell from his wet hair and ran down his cheeks. " _Get help_!"

Thor dropped to his knees, laying the princess gently on the ground, but kept her head supported in his lap.

There was still silence as the nobles watched in horror.

" _Please!_ " Thor begged, and looked frantically to his brother for help.

Loki held his breath as he rushed to a kneel next to the princess to examine her, unsure of where to begin.

Her extravagant attire was ruined. The plush, tan fur around her neck was sopping with crimson blood and black ooze. As far as he could see, the only physical damage to her body was the arrow stabbing out of her chest. There was no black goo around or seeping from the wound so he decided not to worry about that.

He heard a small gasp come from the woman and his eyes darted from the ghastly wound to her face.

Her complexion was a sickly off-grey colour which made his gut clench with worry. There was a trail of blood running from her mouth and her eyes were wide open, unfocused, staring at the ceiling.

Loki understood why Thor had been so frightened. If not for the soft, wheezing breaths he could faintly hear from her lips, he would assume she was dead too.

His best move, he decided, would be to see if the princess was responsive.

He leaned forward so he was in her line of vision.

"Your highness? Can you hear me?" Loki asked and reached for her hand.

A spark burned his fingers and spread, tingling throughout his body. He knew that sensation well. Whenever he came in contact with his mother her magick met with his and the two energies would dance within his body.

So the Vanaheimian princess had magick as well.

The blood trickling from her every orifice suddenly made sense. He'd suffered the same symptoms when he was younger and had attempted spellcasting that was too powerful for him at the time. When an enchantment required more magical strength than the practitioner had, it would be forced to draw power from the practitioner's life force.

"Oh sweet Hel, this is going to hurt," Loki complained. He tightened his grasp on her hand and let his magick flow between them. The moment the connection was made, his magick was aggressively siphoned from his body.

He cried out as he began to seize.

Being thrown in a pit of lava might feel something close to this sensation, he imagined. Her awakening life force had completely overwhelmed him and was stripping the magick from his every cell. He wanted to let go of her hand, but he suddenly couldn't find his own. He couldn't see, nor smell, nor hear. There was no sense, just her. She burned so bright he felt as though all the fried nerves in his body must have turned to cinder.

He hadn't thought to be concerned over how strong she could be when he tried to share his magick. As far as he knew, anyone with that much power shouldn't have had an issue casting spells.

The burning could have latest for minutes or hours, but he couldn't gasp a sense of time trapped in the darkness. Eventually, it faded and he was floating in an raging ocean of green and violet, trapped in a paralyzed state.

 _Loki_

He felt chills as his name filled his mind. Was that Heimdall? How had he entered into his psyche?

"Loki," that was his mother's voice.

He found his eyelids and blinked several times, for a while the world was a bronze blur, until finally his eyes focused. He was laying on his back, he realized. Heimdall was knelt next to him, watching anxiously.

"Hmm?" Loki hummed, too exhausted to form words.

"Praise Buri." Heimdall sighed in relief.

If Loki had control of his eyebrows to raise them, he would. Heimdall had always hated him. As far back as he could remember the gatekeeper's liquid-gold gaze would always be cold and hard when focused on him. He had suspected it was his rebellious streak that Heimdall frowned upon. Particularly since he grasped the art of shape-shifting... about the time he'd turned into a snake to surprise Thor, and stabbed him just for the sake of it. Asgardians healed remarkably quick, and he'd only used a letter opener. It wasn't as though he could have actually harmed Thor.

"Oh my son!" Frigga cried, and Loki realized she was holding his temples, replenishing Loki's magick with her own.

"The healers have arrived and managed to stabilize the princess," Heimdall said, drawing his attention. "You did well."

"Huh," he replied. He had only a short moment to recognize the loss of time before he gave in to the pull of sleep.

.* * *.

When Loki woke again, he found himself in the healing wing of the palace. He also had full sensation in his body again, much to his relief.

A metallic glimmer shifted in his peripheral vision. He propped himself up on his elbows and noticed the princess seated upright and alert in the bed to his right. She held a hammered copper mug in her hands and was breathing in the steam. Lavender tea, he noted as the aroma wafted over to him.

"So my hero awakens." she beamed at him.

It was not the mug that caught his attention, Loki realized, but her hair. It was a pale gold tone that shimmered with all the colours of the rainbow, like oil on water, when she moved her head. He hadn't noticed how enchanting it was the night before.

"Loki, Prince of Asgard, at your service," he greeted properly.

"Asynja, Crown Princess of Vanaheim, not doing you much service," she laughed and it reminded him of birdsong. "My sincerest apologies for ah- depleting you."

He snorted and quickly disguised it as a cough. She made it sound as though she'd defiled him. Magickally, he supposed she had.

"You have no need to apologize, you were not aware of your actions."

"Aye, but we are both bedridden now," she gave him a weak smile. "I'll give you my gratitude then. Thanks to you, I was able to recover in a night's sleep rather than a week."

Asynja stopped suddenly and glanced to the great marble doors of the healing room. Voices echoed out in the hall.

"I am not sure I trust this princess. Did you not see? Every flower on the bridge withered to dust as they carried her past," a soft, high voice carried through the door.

"She was _dying_ , we hardly have the right to judge," a second voice replied calmly.

"Yes, and she nearly _killed_ the prince! She's a witch!"

The doors swung open and in walked two of his mother's handmaidens, Sigyn and Idunn. Loki quickly fell back on his pillow and pretended to sleep.

"Your highness."

"Princess."

The maidens greeted, he heard a swish of fabrics and assumed they had curtsied at the foot of her bed.

"For what do I owe the pleasure of visitors?" Asynja asked, her voice taking on a more formal, regal tone.

"Her Highness, Queen Frigga has offered us as your Ladies in Waiting, if you so wish, your highness." Idunn announced. "My name is Idunn and this is Sigyn."

Loki sighed quietly to himself. It was just his luck that the new face at court would be towing about his clingy bedfellow. When Sigyn wasn't loyally following his mother around, begging to complete her every chore, she was following him around, doing just the same. She was quite nice to look at: a plump, buxom figure that any man would fantasize about, with wheat blonde hair and round grey eyes, but her personality made him want to stick a knife between his ears.

Idunn wasn't much better in his opinion, sure she wasn't as much of a suck up as Sigyn, but her husband, Bragi - the court poet and minstrel- was possibly more obnoxious than Thor what with his constant singing and rhymes. Wherever Idunn went, Bragi was always nearby with a new ballad to sing to his beloved. Loki had to wonder if his mother had purposely offered up her most irritating handmaidens.

"I'm in need of friends at court, I would be delighted to have you both as ladies at my side."

Loki clenched his jaw to keep himself from groaning out loud.

"Of course, if you're going to be my ladies, you must at very least forget calling me 'your Highness'. It really makes a conversation quite tedious," she declared. "Asynja will do fine"

"Yes, Princess." Sigyn replied quickly.

"It'll do."

Loki swore he heard a hint of exasperation in Asynja's words.

"Perhaps we should prepare your bedchambers for when you are ready to leave the healing ward, Asynja?" Idunn asked politely.

"What a kind offer. Perhaps you could also arrange an appointment with the dressmaker here at court for later this afternoon. It would seem my luggage did not survive the journey here."

"Of course."

"As you wish, Princess."

There were more swooshing noises as the newly titled ladies in waiting exited the room. Loki waited quietly until he heard the door close.

"You're going to be miserable with those two," Loki sat up again. "You could have said no, you clearly heard them outside too."

Asynja huffed. "Says the prince who pretended to be asleep when they came in. Which one did you fuck? Both of them?"

He blinked at her curtness. It would seem she had decided to skip all propriety with him.

"Sigyn. I was drunk and she has always been smitten with me," he admitted truthfully.

She nodded. "That explains her bitterness. Could she say your name in bed, or did she just cry ' _Oh, your highness_!'?"

Loki choked in shock before a giggle burst out of him. He slapped a hand to his mouth, horrified that he'd _giggled_.

She laughed again. "I'll take that as a yes. I'll keep that in mind if I ever decide to woo her."

He was at an utter loss for words. The people at court had dubbed him as the "silver-tongued prince", yet at the moment, he found himself tongue-tied.

"I'm kidding," she clarified. "I'm a crown princess, I'm sure if I even tried I'd be exiled to Niflheim for about a thousand years."

Loki grinned. "I know a passage to the realm of Niflheim in a cave not more than a two hours ride from here, I could keep you company."

She smiled toothily in response. "You'd brave the poisonous rivers for me?"

"For you? Anything."

"I'll hold you to that."

The lighthearted banter between them died off and they sat in silence for several moments. Loki found his mind wandering to whatever spell had put the both of them in the healing ward. The question slipped out of his mouth before he could bite it back.

Asynja paused, her brow furrowed as though trying to decide what to say.

"It's not a spell, more of an... ancestral rite? The Vanaheimian royal bloodline, from my mother's side, we're gifted with what you might call life magick?" She gritted her teeth, cringing at her vague explanation. "We can sort of... change the life force of any living thing."

Loki squinted at her. "I don't think I understand."

"I called upon my ancestors and turned several acres of forest into an army of sentient arboroforms."

" _What?_ "

"My grandfather used to call it the Breath of Life. It's sort of, erm, we can enhance the life force of something to become a greater, more powerful version of itself. Turn a tree into a Flora Colossus, or clay into Golums, make a mortal more like us."

"That... that's incredible," he gazed at her in wonder, losing himself in her bronze complexion and faerie-like features. She didn't look like she possessed powers close to that of a primordial god, but then, he had never actually seen a primordial god to make any comparisons to.

Her cheeks flushed to the colour of rosehips and he felt heat rise in his own. Loki prayed it was mere fascination blooming within him. It would do nobody any good if he started to fancy his brother's betrothed.

She shifted uncomfortably. "Not a lot of people know about this though, I am only telling you because I owe you an explanation."

"I won't tell a soul," he made a show of pretending to lock his lips and tossed the imaginary key over his shoulder. "Why an army though? What happened?"

Thundering footsteps echoed from out in the hall and he fought off an eye roll. _Of course_ they couldn't have more than ten minutes to chat before getting interrupted. So was the life of a royal, there was hardly any privacy.

Thor swept in through the doors and Loki seriously considered faking sleep again.

"Princess! Brother," Thor's booming voice filled the room. "I am glad to see you both awake and well!"

Loki watched her expression closely, half hoping she would act with disgust. Much to his disappointment, her face lit up with an angelic smile, and her violet eyes sparkled like twin nebulas of stardust.

"Thor," she beamed at him, nodding her head in greeting. "I must thank you for bringing me safely to Asgard."

"You are to be my wife, it is my duty to protect you," he replied simply.

"When I am no longer capable of protecting myself," she added. There was a stiffness in her tone that caused Loki's lips to quirk up.

Thor apparently missed the cool shift to her demeanor, and instead a wide, innocent grin spread across his face. "Are you a warrior as well as a sorceress? Your kick was mighty, and your instincts are incredibly quick!"

"I know my way around a sword," she admitted, appearing quite pleased at his flattery. "A queen ought to be able to hold her own in a fight if it comes down to it."

Thor was utterly delighted. "We will have to spar once your shoulder completely heals!"

"I would be honoured."

"It's a date."

Loki rolled his eyes at their little flirtation. He was certain that neither of them would notice if he climbed out of bed and left the room.

"May I?" Thor asked, gesturing to the foot of her bed.

She nodded.

Thor sat down and moved his arm from behind him to reveal a slim roll of grey linen.

"Wha-

"I had our finest fletcher examine it," he unraveled the linen, to expose the arrow wrapped within. "It's standard Vanaheimian make. I thought it might be enchanted too... it's not."

Loki leaned forward.

The arrow had been thoroughly cleaned, its bronze head gleamed bright in the light of the open windows. The birch shaft, once a pale white wood, appeared to have red veins throughout it- the grain had been stained crimson with her blood.

"Why would the arrow be enchanted?" Loki asked, joining their conversation.

Thor looked uncomfortable and glanced to Asynja.

"Because someone summoned about several hundred corpses to kill me before I could reach the Bifrost," she explained calmly as she picked up the arrow and examined it with morbid fascination.

Loki felt his jaw drop. " _That's_ what the arboroforms were for?!"

"He knows?"

She shrugged. "Well I did nearly kill him, figured he ought to know why."

"Do you know anyone who would want you dead?" Loki asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Every fool that would rather see a man on the throne. And I don't know any necromancers if that's what you're asking."

The brothers shared a worried look, a silent conversation passing between them.

Thor slid from the bed to the cold marble floor and knelt on one knee, his right hand lifted in a fist over his heart. "I have no sword to pledge to you; but, I vow to fight by your side and protect you from this moment on until I take my last breath."

"We may not know who your enemy is, but you will never fight them alone," Loki added.

A crooked smile worked its way onto Asynja's face.

* * *

A/N: Wow okay, I can't tell if that was bad or if I just read it too many times. If you feel like reviewing, I ask that you consider using the "Two stars and a wish" method, that way I can see what you like, what you don't like, or what you want to see more of.


	4. Chapter 3: The Gift

A/N: Sorry it's so late, my dad had a heart attack last xmas after I'd spent most of the xmas eve hiding from everyone trying to finish this in time. Obviously I did not and felt super guilty and I just couldn't get back into writing. Anyways, he's fine now, sorry for taking a year, I'm back and at it!

.

Chapter Three: The Gift

Asgard

1809 CE

.

Three days had passed since Asynja left the healing room. She spent most of the time locked up in her private quarters exchanging correspondences with her father regarding the attack during her passage to Asgard. Much to her surprise, she found herself almost impassive, numb to the events that had happened. What bothered her was how the conjuring of a battalion of undead soldiers would affect her kingdom. King Hoenir firmly believed that their people did not need to know about the necromancer. Their people, however, were frustrated and confused to discover hundreds of desiccated tombs, the bodies of their loved ones having mysteriously vanished as though they sat up and walked away.

Asynja had expressed to him her utter disbelief at his choice. Surely the families deserved to know what had happened.

There was also the fact of the matter that she had created nearly six hundred new life forms. A whole sentient forest showing up overnight was bound to raise questions.

The Breath of Life was a gift bestowed to only the direct descendants of the Vanahemian royal bloodline, and after the loss of her mother nearly a year earlier, she was the last surviving descendant. Admittedly, most of their people were unaware of this gift as the stories had become something of a legend. The last time any member of her family had used their power in such a large display was so many eons ago that they were simply referred to as her ancestors.

Her father had informed her he would also be doing his best to keep that private as well. At very least he would not share any details about her abilities when news reached court and their counsel inevitably began to question him. She found it unlikely that the counselors wouldn't be able to put two and two together, but agreed that publicly announcing she had the ability to manipulate life would only make the target on her back even larger.

With very little else she could do regarding the circumstances back on Vanaheim, Asynja focused on preparing for her welcome ball, which had been postponed from her original arrival date to allow her wounds to fully heal.

A little past midday, Asynja found herself in the palace smithy, handmaiden by her side as they waited for Regin, the master craftsman, to finish the gift she had commissioned him to make for Thor. She had decided on a greatsword the moment he had mentioned in the healing wards that he had no sword to make a vow on. While he may not have meant it literally- the warrior prince would undoubtedly have access to the royal armory, she assumed he would understand the meaning behind the gift.

Regin had made dozens of weapons for Thor and promised that he could craft a blade perfectly balanced to the prince's hand.

"The prince prefers his hammer. It was a gift from his father, forged in the heart of a dying star," Sigyn said, waiting patiently with Asynja. "I'm sure he'll like a sword though."

She glanced down at the handmaiden, who stood a good ten centimeters shorter than her, and contemplated asking her to shove a sock in her mouth. Sigyn didn't look like she belonged anywhere near a smithy. She was wearing a layered gown of chartreuse lace with a long skirt that she kept bunched up in her hand to keep from getting stained on the sooty, hay covered ground. The soft yellow-green of her gown shimmered beautifully in reddish glow from the fires of the forge. Asynja wished she didn't look so lovely while everything she said seemed to have a cruel double-meaning.

"It's symbolic." Asynja replied, knowing if she gave any more details to the handmaiden she'd surely find another way to make her feel uncertain about her gift.

"From when you were friends as children?" Sigyn asked, prompted by the rumours and stories that had been buzzing around court.

"Yes," she said shortly. It was a lie. She had no memories of Thor as a child. If she strained her mind she thought she could see a confident blond boy in Asgardian leathers, but she was fairly sure that was just a figment of her imagination.

She turned her attention to Regin and watched his skilled, freckled hands work the long blade against the spinning oiled whetstone. Orange sparks showered the ground as he finished sharpening the edge of the titanium blade.

Regin lifted the sword with both hands, carefully displaying the blade on his calloused palms as he carried it over to them.

"Now lass, _this_ is a sword." Regin exclaimed. A bright, toothy smile pulled at his soot covered cheeks.

Asynja leaned forward to examine it. The titanium greatsword had anodised in the heat of the forge, the metal shifting between various shades of deep blue, amber, and red; while the sharpened edges gleamed a deadly pale silver. Inlaid in the center of the serpent carved handle was the arrow she had been hit with, its crimson stained wood was properly lacquered to keep the blood from darkening with time. The brass arrowhead had been melded into the base of the blade and it perfectly matched the amber anodising.

"It is… stunning," Sigyn admitted.

"Not even the Sons of Ivaldi could create a weapon so fine." Asynja complimented. She gently lifted the sword from Regin and grasped the hilt in both hands.

He beamed proudly at her, his cheeks flushing the same shade of red as his hair. "It's fourteen pounds, heavy for a greatsword, most're about seven, but our prince has quite the swinging arm."

She rotated the sword, watching the colours shift and swirl in the orange light.

"Princess? We ought to get you ready for your welcome ball. We cannot have you showing up in leathers and linen, you are the guest of honour after all." Sigyn reminded her.

"Yes, it's starting in a few hours," Asynja turned to Regin. "We'll leave you here then, Regin. You are a truly gifted craftsman. I hope to see you at the ball this evening?"

"Aye, Ma'am. I've never turned down a reason to celebrate," he remarked jovially and offered her a scabbard and strap to carry the weapon with. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"And you." Asynja slung the strap over her shoulders and waved to Regin who bowed his head, as she and Sigyn left the smithy.

The two women walked through the lower palace halls in an uncomfortable silence. They would both politely greet any passing nobles, but once alone, the only noise to be heard was the echoing of their own footsteps in the great arching hallways.

The harsh words the handmaiden had spoken outside the healing room so many days before continued to play on loop in Asynja's mind.

She sighed quietly to herself and gestured for Sigyn to follow her to the nearest window alcove.

"I wish you could trust me enough to consider me a friend," she said, receiving a stunned look from Sigyn. "I know that you do not care for me because of what happened when your prince tried to heal me, but I need you to know that I had no intention to hurt him. I was entirely unaware of what was happening, in fact I did not even realize I had arrived in Asgard."

Sigyn shifted and picked an invisible lint from her dress.

"Prince Loki mentioned to me that you are the most loyal of his mother's handmaidens, I will not stand in your way if you wish to return to your position with your Queen."

"I could never turn down what my Queen commands me."

"And I could never ask you to dedicate so much of your time to someone you hate."

Sigyn gaped up at her. "I don't- I don't _hate_ you. I just, you-" she looked outside and her voice softened. "It will take some time for me to trust you. Awake or not, you nearly killed him."

Asynja felt a chill slip down her spine and guilt bubble up in her gut. Nobody at court had portrayed any of this emotion to her, not even Queen Frigga- Loki's mother. As the future monarch of an allied realm, nobody would dare consider telling her their true thoughts and feelings.

She dropped her gaze to the floor and gave a weak smile. "Well I suppose we'll be spending a lot of time together, all I can ask is that you have an open mind."

Sigyn stiffly nodded. "I can do that."

"I'm glad," she said sincerely, then reached a hand to the greatsword still strapped to her back. "I am going to bring this to Prince Thor now, before the ball. I believe Idunn should be meeting with the dressmaker any moment now, why don't you meet with them in my chambers and try on your dresses? I'll join you shortly after."

Sigyn offered her a small smile in return. "I'm sure the Prince will be delighted with your gift, it truly is one of a kind."

"Thank you, Sigyn."

She left her in the alcove and headed up to the royal suites.

Several guards were stationed throughout the long hall, two guards at each door and a group of three chatting by a table with a horn of meade. They all stiffened at the sight of a stranger bearing a weapon until the captain of their squad spoke up.

"Your Highness," he raised a fist to his chest and bowed his head.

"Gentlemen," she greeted. "I thought I would visit my betrothed, is he in his chambers?"

"Aye, getting ready for your ball, I'd imagine," the guard said, nodding his head to the door to her left.

She paused, waiting for someone to announce her arrival, but the guards stood silently. She supposed pages were not customary at Asgardian court, there hadn't been one stationed at the healing wing either.

"Thank you," she nodded to the captain and approached the door. She took a breath to steady herself, then rapped her knuckles against the mahogany wood.

She felt a bit silly, feeling as nervous as she did. Thor had proven to be friendly from his visit in the healing ward. He had already saved her life and made a vow to protect her, but this evening would mark the start of the celebrations of their betrothal. He was no longer just a new friend that had helped her, but her future husband.

The door swung open.

"What is it?"

Thor stood shirtless in the doorway, he held a sheet of linen around his waist which hung dangerously low on his hips. His long golden hair was tied back and he was breathing heavily.

"Asyn- what are you doing here? Why didn't the page announce you?" he asked.

She struggled to avert her eyes from his glistening abdominal muscles and focused on his face. "I have a gift for you, I thought I would bring it to you before tonight."

"Now's not a good time," he said, glancing nervously behind him.

She tilted her head to follow his line of sight to the form of a naked woman lounged seductively on his bed. Thor realized what she could see and quickly closed the door so his body just fit through, blocking her view of his bedchamber.

"Oh- I- ah, they said you were alone," she said stupidly. Obviously she should have realized that was not the case, just by the sight of him.

Thor pushed a loose strand of hair from his face and stared at a spot on the wall behind her. "You should go get ready for tonight."

"Er- right. Enjoy," she spun around quickly and heard the door shut behind her.

" _Enjoy? Really?"_ she scolded herself.

Nine guards stood awkwardly in the hall, all pretending not to listen.

She stood still for a moment to gather her bearings and prayed to all her ancestors before her that the sting of rejection wouldn't make her tear up, especially in front of so many guards.

"It would seem he is not alone," she announced. "You may wish to remember that in case the Queen decides to visit her son."

She turned and walked from the hall, struggling to remember her casual pace. Rejection was not an emotion she had been acquainted with before, and never from men. All she wanted to do was run to her own chambers and hide.

Instead her room would be full of strangers who probably felt the same way about her as Sigyn, preparing her for a ball to celebrate her upcoming nuptials.

Thor, she realized, most likely did not look forward to their marriage, considering he was a handsome prince with no qualms about sex before marriage. Or perhaps marriage would not matter to him, and he would continue to keep mistresses.

It was remarkably unfair, she decided, that Kings could have affairs, while if a Queen took a lover it would be considered treason, to which she would either be banished and stripped of her titles, or beheaded.

She wandered mindlessly to her chamber and slipped in the door, shutting it behind her.

"Princess, you're back so quickly- and you still have the sword. Did you miss the Prince?" Idunn asked.

She had forgotten she was still wearing it.

"Actually, I decided that it was simply too lovely and had to keep it for myself." Asynja shrugged out of the strap and set the weapon on a chaise lounge by the fireplace.

"Really?" Sigyn frowned. "You had it balanced perfectly to him."

"You said yourself that Thor prefers his hammer," she remarked, hoping her voice was coming out carefree, rather than careless and bitter. "Besides, it has a part of me in it, clearly it's better suited to myself."

"Have you got a name for it then?" Idunn asked and reached for the weapon, curious to see the finished work she'd heard so much about.

"I was thinking _'Hevn'_ ," Asynja mused, announcing the first name that came to mind. "It means _'revenge'_."

Sigyn and Idunn shared a worried glance.

"Oh come off it," she scoffed at them. "If someone shot you through the chest with an arrow, you'd want revenge too."

* * *

Asynja examined herself in front of the mirror. Her gown was made of layered, transparent white silk that gracefully hugged her curves and hung straight to the ground. Over the silk, she wore an armored breastplate of gold wire filigree embedded with pearls.

"Is the crown too much?" she asked, glancing back at Idunn, who had changed into a vibrant emerald gown.

"You are the future queen of Vanaheim and Asgard, it wouldn't be unheard of to wear a crown." Idunn pointed out.

"I'm not queen _yet_ ," she pulled the crown from her head and picked up a diadem of gold chain and diamonds that ran along the part of her hair and draped down to the back of her head.

"Subtle," Idunn remarked. "I like it."

"Good, I haven't got any other options."

Idunn chuckled and called for Sigyn.

Asynja smoothed her hands over her dress once more. She wanted to be intimidatingly beautiful when she saw Thor again, specifically to torment him. She knew that she was a new figure in his life, that he surely had lovers before, and that her being in Asgard for three days wouldn't bring an immediate halt to any relationship he was in. Despite this, a part of her had hoped they might have had some sort of love at first sight. With that hope squandered, a nasty little part of her vanity suggested that if she were pretty enough, he would forget about whomever was in his bed.

"Are you ready? You don't want to to be late for your own party." Sigyn asked.

"I do want to be a bit late, have to keep the crowd on their toes." Asynja joked.

Sigyn led the three of them down through the palace to the massive brass doors outside the Great Hall.

" _I am so not ready for this_ ," she whispered quietly to herself as the doors swung open.

A page stepped forward to announce her arrival. "Presenting Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Asynja Hoenirdottir of Vanaheim!"

Asynja stood in the entrance, doing her best to portray herself as calm. The Great Hall of Asgard was far grander than the one at her home in Vanaheim. The roof of the hall was about seven stories high and at least several hundred meters in length. Massive columns of carved marble were evenly spaced along the walls, connected by huge arching beams to support the ornately frescoed ceiling.

The impressive architecture had very little to do with her nerves. The crowd of hundreds of nobles, merchants, and staff that stood sizing her up as their future queen however, made her very nervous.

She forced a warm smile to the page and tried to keep it on her face as she walked through the crowd. At the far end of the hall, raised up on a pedestal was the King's golden throne. Odin sat in a reclined lounge, emanating an aura of immense power. The foot of the throne extended into a small bench where Frigga sat, conversing with her sons.

The royal family watched closely as she made her way towards them, the sea of people splitting apart to make way as she passed through.

She took a deep breath and projected her voice as she neared the throne. "Allfather, I am honoured to be present as a guest here in your court. You are a most gracious host."

She reached the bottom of the steps as she finished speaking and sunk in a curtsy before him.

"You may be a guest now, but soon Asgard will be your home. May you always feel welcome here," Odin straightened in his seat and lifted a goblet towards her. "I am delighted that the daughter of my closest friend will soon be my daughter by marriage."

Asynja straightened from her curtsy and smiled up at the king. "My father would always speak highly of you, Allfather. I so look forward to knowing you just as well."

Odin raised his goblet to the watching crowd. "Let us commence the celebrations for the union of our two realms!"

The Great Hall boomed with thunderous applause and cheers.

Bards stationed on the southern balcony began to play an upbeat, sultry melody traditional to her realm and several acrobats dropped from the ceiling on swirling ribbons of silk.

She stared up in wonder at the acrobats as they flipped and contorted their bodies into impossible shapes while spinning up in the air.

A hand grazed her back and she stiffened.

"I was told we are to start the celebrations with a dance from your people," Thor whispered to her.

She felt her face heat up and forced herself to smile cheerfully at him. "Lead the way."

He was wearing similar armor to what he had worn when he came to her rescue in Vanaheim, including the dramatic red cape that brushed the floor as he walked.

"You will have to lead, I never paid attention to foreign etiquette lessons," he admitted. She tried not to roll her eyes at him. It did not surprise her that the warrior prince had chosen to disregard the fine arts and social customs of the other eight realms.

"Just this once," she smirked at him. "My people love to dance, you will have to practice for when you stay in my realm. They expect a man to lead. Left foot step forward."

She lunged backward with her right foot and arched her spine, pushing her chest toward him. "Right foot."

"I would be king, I could sit on my throne and watch," he said, his eyes flitted down to her neckline as she dropped her head back and bent her spine back further in an effortless dip.

She squinted her eyes at him when she snapped back upright. "I'm sure you'd enjoy that. Back, left, right, left. But you would be considered less of a man for it."

Thor snorted. "We measure mightiness by victory in battle here."

"And yet, that sounds like a poor way to woo a lover," Asynja retorted, spinning away from him.

He stood dumbstruck as she sashayed back to him.

"You can't have seduced that girl into your bed by swinging an axe around," she stated boldly as she strutted around him, her hand dragging along his shoulders.

She was proud of herself for making light of what she had witnessed. There was a nonchalance in her tone that she had not expected to use and made her sound much more confident than she was in regard to the subject

Thor frowned in a way that suggested that was exactly how he had seduced the girl.

"No courting with gifts? Poetry?" she teased, lowering her voice. "Sweet talk?" There was a glint of frustration in his eyes that fueled her further.

He pulled her to him, his grip on her hips tighter than before.

"How I choose to take a lover is not your concern," he snapped. "You are a guest in my kingdom, you have no say over what I do. When you become my wife you will still be a guest in my kingdom. It would do you well to remember that."

His cold words felt like a punch to the gut. It would seem he did not share his brother's sense of humor.

"I merely jested. I meant no offense," she said, regretting her taunts. She had thought she was flirting with him, but that was clearly not the case.

His face was hard and he did not respond to her.

She was stunned by his sudden shift in behaviour and childish antics. He had vowed to protect her with his life three days prior, yet after poking fun at his manhood she was barely more than subservient property to him? All hopes for a positive relationship with him fled her body and her veins pumped icy rage from her heart.

The music came to an end and she pulled out of his arms.

"Learn how to take a joke, you're supposed to become a fucking king," Asynja hissed and walked away from him as quickly as she could without creating a scene.

If it had been challenging to smile normally when she was nervous, it was nothing compared to when she was angry. Gritted teeth did not make for a friendly smile. She tried to avoid making eye contact as the walked through the crowd and made her way to a table heaped with bite sized foods that she could occupy herself with.

She stuffed a pastry in her mouth and tried not to glare as she watched Thor laughing with a small group of noblemen. How dare he pretend to be so mad that he would not acknowledge her and then proceed to be so completely carefree moments later.

"Cousin!" two voices shouted in unison and she turned, spotting the twins, Freyr and Freyja. King Hoenir had sent the pair to Asgard two hundred years prior to act as diplomats and representatives of Vanaheim.

"We are so delighted you have joined us here!" Freyja exclaimed and pulled her into a tight hug.

Freyr grinned at her from behind his sister. "There aren't nearly enough Vanir at court."

Freyja scoffed as she pulled away from the hug and nodded to the crowd, "They couldn't handle any more, they already rejoice in my beauty."

The three Vanir did stick out among the Aesir. They all had pale golden hair, but instead of Asynja's colourful effervescence, the twins' hair shone so brightly they seemed to emit their own light.

"Not Freyr's?" she asked coyly, receiving a groan from her cousin.

Freyja laughed. "The jester, Bragi sang a ballad about him being the god of the sun and the title's stuck ever since."

"Yes, because having blond hair makes me god of the sun," Freyr rolled his eyes.

Asynja bit her lip to hold back a smirk. "I do recall you being a morning person, cousin."

"I do recall you not being such a cheek," Freyr mocked, still grinning at her.

She reached for a goblet of wine from the table and continued to banter with her cousins. They emitted such an aura of warmth and happiness that she didn't find it at all surprising that the Asgardians adored them so. She found her sour mood quickly melting away in their presence.

"Come along cousin, let's show these warrior types what real dancing looks like!" Freyr exclaimed, pulling the goblet from her hand and set it on the table.

"I wasn't finished that," she complained, but allowed him to lead her back to the open floor.

* * *

Loki lounged on a bench against the western wall of the Great Hall and watched the chaotic mess of people socializing and drinking. The dance floor was filled with twirling young maidens, giggling and squealing as they struggled to keep up with the tempo of the Vanaheimian tune.

At the center on the floor Asynja and Freyr, one of the diplomats from her realm, were putting on an impressive performance. Their bodies seemed to writhe with the music, each movement was intense and sharp, yet effortlessly smooth.

He was certain that his own people were incapable of dancing as such.

"I could never dance like that with my cousin."

Loki turned his attention to Sigyn, who had moved his tray of fruit and taken a seat on the bench by his foot.

"How do you dance with your cousin then?" he asked.

"I don't." Sigyn smirked coyly at him and popped a blueberry in her mouth.

He fought back an eye roll and found himself distracted once again by the dancing Vanir, who had drawn a gasping crowd. Their audience cheered with delight as Freyr lifted the princess above his head. Asynja arched her back and raised her arms above her. Her hands twisted in a wheel-like motion and conjured a small swarm of white butterflies that scattered over the crowd and out towards the balconies.

"They seem to like it when _she_ uses magick," Sigyn complained and glanced to him with an irritated expression.

Loki smiled at the loyal handmaiden. Ever since Loki had decided to devote himself to the arcane arts, the other nobles and warriors at court had treated him as though he were some sort of social pariah. "She created butterflies out of thin air, of course they like it."

She hummed in discontent. "They should have liked it when you created multiple versions of yourself to defeat your brother in a spar. That was hilarious."

He could not hide the pride he felt if he tried. The only other person at court that approved of his talents was his mother, and even she hadn't been impressed when, during a widely attended sparring match, Loki cast the illusion of twelve copies of himself standing in a circle around Thor to taunt and tease him. Thor was always quick to anger when anyone made jokes at his expense and had lunged at one of the copies, tumbling trough the illusion and landed face first in the mud.

"It was," he agreed. Visions of his muck splattered brother filled his head. After his near effortless victory, Loki had been banned from using magick in the sparring pit.

The crowd began to cheer again as Freyja joined her brother and cousin to dance.

"They're a bit creepy, aren't they?" Sigyn mused, nodding her head toward them.

Loki frowned. "What do you mean?"

She blinked at him. "You haven't noticed that all three of them are symmetrically perfect albinos with glowing hair?"

"Their grandmother was a light elf," he shrugged. "I imagine most of their family looks like that."

Sigyn choked. "I thought the light elves fell thousands of years ago with Alfheim?"

He sighed and began to explain. He couldn't bring himself to be annoyed with Sigyn for not knowing. Before moving to the palace, she had been a peasant girl who worked on her family farm, and would not have had access to the tomes and scrolls regarding the alliance between the Vanir and the Light Elves. She would not have heard of the small elven colony that formed in the vast forests of another realm. Nor of the romance between the leaders of the two peoples.

Though, he had thought she would have picked up on Freyr's title, Lord of the Elves.

She giggled in embarrassment when he mentioned that. "I assumed it was another nickname."

Loki blinked, surprised by the implications of her thoughts. He watched the Vanaheimian diplomats twirl the princess around and command the attention of their admirers. Freya was just short of being worshiped by his people for her legendary love affairs with various genders. He had never considered the possibility of Freyr being treated any less for behaving the same way. He wondered what Sigyn would think if she knew that he too had once shared Freyr's bed.

"It is a title of honour." Loki said, the words coming out more sternly than he intended.

Sigyn nodded earnestly.

"He regularly meets with, and speaks on behalf of the remaining elves," Loki found himself explaining. He wondered why he bothered, really. He was always explaining things. It sometimes felt as though he were destined to be an advisor.

"I never realized. I'll have to ask the princess to tell me more about her realm." Sigyn mused.

Loki glanced out into the crowed to search for the aforementioned princess. She had finished her dance with her cousins and drifted over to the buffet table just a few meters from where he was seated. Her cheeks were flushed red, but her eyes shone not with delight, but rage.

He frowned and found himself standing.

"Yes, good idea Sigyn," he muttered, barely half aware of her presence, and made his way to the princess.

* * *

 _ **Part 2 of the ball is coming soon, to an electronic device with access to the internet near you...**_


	5. Chapter 4: Starlight

A/N: Is stockinged a word? Stocking-ed? I'm using stockinged. even though it looks wrong. it sounds right. apologies if it makes you cringe. Also this chapter has moments inspired by CW Reign. Specifically when stockinged comes up. Meanwhile I'm trying to draw inspiration for Loki from Netflix's You. I feel like this is starting to drift towards a love triangle and I don't want it to go there. Thor's still endgame. Hence the preface

also I think I'm semi-coloning wrong. according to my english teachers i've supposedly done it the right way but it also feels wrong. like drinking orange juice after you brush your teeth. but with words. pardon my notes. I edit at like, 2am with a glass of wine (it's actually champagne tonight, thought i'd be fancy. not that any of you care)

Might revise this in a day or two, it's annoyingly easier to edit when reading off a phone.

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Starlight**

1809 CE

Asgard

Asynja nursed a goblet of Asgardian wine and focused her energy on remaining calm. Thor had once again enraged her- she tried politely nodding to him when they crossed paths and he, in turn, snubbed her. There was little she could do while stuck in such a public setting but to stand in the corner and hope that the alcohol would numb her anger. Tears of frustration had pooled in her eyes as she repeated all the nasty cursed she wanted to scream at him in her mind.

A hand briefly touched her shoulder. Startled, she jerked back and spun around to meet the concerned gaze of the young prince.

"You look like you need to escape," Loki informed her.

She felt her cheeks darken. She would rather be drawn and quartered than be caught crying in front of her future subjects. It felt like a twisted, evil curse to have her eyes well up with tears when she was angry. She wanted to be able to strike fear into the hearts of those who had wronged her, not bring them mild discomfort at her display of emotion.

"Follow me, I know a place," he told her lightly. He was subtle and calm in his actions. It was clear to her that he was taking concern to not attract attention.

Loki flashed a gentle smile as he bowed his head in what would be taken as a polite goodbye by anyone watching, then walked away at a casual pace. He was easy to follow in a crowd. Loki stood a good head taller than most of the ladies in attendance and had at least half that on the men.

Asynja found herself struggling to keep her mouth shut at the sudden arrival- and equally quick exit of her rescuer. She set her goblet down on the table and quickly began to pursue him through the congregation of liquor flushed faces and swirling fabrics.

She made her way outside onto the grand balcony, keeping watch of the raven haired figure twenty paces ahead of her. He paused at the marble rail of the balcony and before she had the chance to catch up, he vanished.

"Loki!" she cried out in panic and raced to the edge.

It would be just her luck that she would be present when the young prince slipped over the rail of the balcony, not even three full days after she nearly murdered him during her arrival in Asgard. Absolutely no one would believe it wasn't pre-meditated. She could only imagine the outcry, the upcoming war, and -Valhalla forbid- the new betrothal with Muspelheim. By the gods she didn't want to marry a fire demon.

She hesitantly peered over the edge and was instantly relieved to discover no body on the grounds below.

"Up here!" she heard Loki call.

She tilted her head to the side and glanced upward.

Loki was half hanging over a railing from the balcony on the floor above.

"You can teleport, right?" he shouted down, an amused smirk on his face as he watched her. She was well aware that she was staring, but it wasn't often she watched someone vanish from existence and reappear in another location.

"N-no?" she shouted back, and glanced around nervously to make sure her volume hadn't attracted attention.

A hand grasped her arm and she felt a tugging sensation like a thread pulled through her middle from navel to spine. She barely had a moment to blink before she noticed the shift in her surroundings.

"What the shit?!" she gasped and spun around to smack the young prince's shoulder. "Never do that again! I thought I just watched you die!"

Loki chortled at her reaction.

"And you can _teleport_? How in the nine realms did you manage that?"

He shrugged, a cheeky grin stretched across his face. "I happen to be just that good."

"Evidently," Asynja agreed and leaned over the rail of the balcony to confirm she really had moved to a new floor of the palace.

"Only short distances," he admitted. "A few paces in any given direction, though heights are easier."

"You still manipulated space," she pointed out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. "If we're to be friends here, then I am going to have to insist you teach me."

"Friendship for decades of tutelage, would you call that a worthy trade?" he questioned teasingly.

She scrunched her nose. "Aye, well, if you don't want my friendship I'll coerce your mother into convincing you to teach me anyways, and you'll grow to tolerate me in seven months or so."

"I'll take friendship now," his smile widened.

Asynja offered a toothy grin in return and noticed that for the first time in days, she felt relaxed and happy. A tingle of joy spread over her body and flushed her cheeks. She bit down on her lip lightly to contain her excitement and took a moment to scold herself. She wasn't supposed to feel such happiness when it was brought on by the wrong prince. Those tingles were not strictly happy and she couldn't allow herself to acknowledge them.

She took a deep breath and gathered her surroundings. They were not too far above the balcony of the Great Hall, but the hall was seven floors tall, and their current location could not be more than three floors at best.

"Where are we, exactly?" she asked.

"We're just outside the performer's rafters, mother insisted we have an outdoor space for the minstrels to cool down." Loki explained.

"Heat rises," she mused, nodding her head in agreement. She didn't feel the need to keep talking as she gazed out at the view before her. There were billions more stars in the skies of Asgard than there were in Vanaheim. The night sky above was a vibrant palate of colours from the various planets, stars, and nebulae that shimmered and turned overhead. She hadn't quite adjusted to the fact that in Asgard, night did not necessarily equate to darkness.

Movement turned her attention away from the skies and she watched Loki bend down to sit on a step. He brought his hands to his mouth as if deep in thought.

She furrowed her eyebrow at him. "Are you-

"Are you happy here?" He spoke at the same time as her, their sentences overlapping.

"I'm sorry?" she frowned.

"I apologize if this comes off bold, and I assure you it wasn't obvious or the like of it; but, just in your eyes you looked terribly upset tonight," he clarified.

"Oh."

Asynja nodded slightly and sank down onto the step next to Loki.

"Well, what is it that's bothering you?" He asked.

She paused, struggling to fight the bitter smile that had crept from her lips.

"You should ask your brother," she blurted out. A part of her wanted to unburden all of her frustrations onto him, but to do so felt wrong.

Loki frowned. "Ask him what?"

"Why he's such a... chauvinistic, arrogant... ass!" she sputtered. One complaint would be okay, she reasoned.

An amused grin spread over Loki's face, his eyes twinkling with delight.

"That's the way he's always been, I'm sorry to say," he informed her. "You're the first person besides myself to notice though."

She raised her eyebrows. "The first?"

"There's something about being the future king that makes people blind to his actions," Loki explained, and she watched his features twist into something unnervingly bitter. "But I will be more than happy to inform my brother of your... discontent."

Asynja frowned. He quite clearly had his own feud brewing and the last thing she wanted to do was get entangled in that mess.

"Don't bother," she assured him and pulled herself up to a stand. "You cannot fix a relationship by having someone else do your dirty work."

"Oh the lives we may not have lost to wars had former kings held your sentiments," Loki mused.

She snorted in morbid amusement and turned her attention down to the gardens. In the center of the garden stood a massive golden sculpture of Yggdrasil, the world tree. Each delicately carved leaf seemed to flutter in the summer breeze and refracted the starlight from the skies above as if it were blossoming rays of pure light. Beyond the tree was acres of opulent flora and foliage, the paths running throughout lit up with white paper lanterns that emitted soft golden light. Far beyond the stone walls of the palace the lights of the city sparkled with life.

"I think the minstrels get a better view of Asgard here than the King himself," she remarked as she leaned against the low marble wall.

"They do," he retorted. The closeness of his voice startled her, as she hadn't realized he had approached her from behind. "I can confirm this for a fact. My father's bedchambers have no windows."

"How miserable," she turned and smiled up at him.

"Indeed."

A pleasant silence of mirth passed between them, and she couldn't help but marvel at the twinkle of his pale grey eyes that seemed to capture the light of the stars the longer he gazed down upon her.

A trill of laughter rang out from the terrace beneath them and jerked Asynja's mind from their easygoing conversation back to the circumstances of the night.

"Oh gods! We've been gone far too long," she started to panic, her hand lifted to her chest. "I've abandoned a party hosted in my honour. I'm going to be a terrible queen. Take me back now."

Loki chuckled and took a step closer. "As your highness commands."

He reached out and gently pulled her hand away from her heart.

She froze, stunned by the tender intimacy of his grasp and struggled to breathe evenly at the feel of his thumb gently running circles over her wrist.

"Princess?"

Sigyn's voice rang out over the balcony and Asynja spun around in shock to see that they had teleported again, this time without her noticing. She blinked and quickly doned her aristocratic aura, a story woven on her tongue as she hurried away from the young prince.

"Sigyn! I have been searching for you!" she exclaimed, painting excitement onto her expression.

"You have?" Sigyn questioned tentatively.

"Yes! And Idunn! Where has she gone off to?" Asyjna glanced around and touched the back of Sigyn's arm, guiding her back into the Great Hall.

"I- er, we lost you in the crowd. I imagine she's gone off with Braggi." Sigyn shrugged.

"Ah- there she is!" Asyjna exclaimed, spotting Idunn across the hall. She latched her hand onto Sigyn's and towed the handmaiden through the crowd to her other lady. "Idunn! Come join us! We're going to dance!"

Idunn was seated on her husband's lap, apparently enjoying whatever prose the mustachioed man whispered into her ear. She glanced up at the princess in surprise at her sudden appearance and cheerful shift in demeanor.

"You want to dance with us?" Sigyn asked, perplexed. She lightly swung her hand as if to remind Asynja that she had yet to let go of her.

"Yes! This is a ball, and you two are to be my closest confidants here. Let's us three have some fun!"

Asynja stretched out her other hand for Idunn to take.

Idunn shared an astonished glance with Sigyn; but, slipped off her husband's lap, pecked a kiss to his cheek, and took Asynja's waiting hand. "Well, come on then, let's dance!" she enthused.

The three girls raced through the crowd, hands still linked as they stumbled along together.

"Take off your shoes!" Asynja called as they approached the open dance floor. She had come up with the sudden compulsion to dance as a distraction to keep Sigyn from processing whatever she might have seen on the balcony; but, found herself enjoying the chaotic giddiness of their behaviour and her ladies' willingness to participate. The minstrels seemed to have picked up on their actions and the melody shifted to an upbeat, plucky tune.

With their beautifully crafted shoes tossed to the side of the dance floor, they raced to the center and started twirling in a slightly silly folk style. Asynja lifted her arms and twisted her wrists lightly so her ladies would know to spin under her. They howled with laughter as their stockinged feet slipped across the marble floor and linked arms to form a ring as they spun around.

Other young maidens and ladies of the court began to kick off their shoes and join the chaos of spinning skirts.

Asynja grinned and released her hold on her ladies to let them run to their friends. She spun around on her own, delighted to have conjured a crowd of cheery women. Perhaps her future husband wasn't too keen on her, but his people were.

A soft woosh echoed overhead and a cloud of shimmering white petals fell from above.

She slowed down and watched in awe as thousands of tiny petals spiraled down from no apparent source.

Asynja turned and found herself caught in the silver gaze of the only other magical practitioner she knew in Asgard.

.***.

Thor stood at the edge of the crowd watching his future bride spin around in the center of the dance floor. It seemed that in less than a minute she had captivated the attention of his people and wrapped them around her fingers. If he were being honest, he would have to admit she had captivated him too.

He felt an incredible amount of remorse for his earlier behaviour to her. He hadn't _intended_ to have a tantrum; but, he had been so embarrassed by her interrupting his post-sparring rendezvous with Lady Sif. Combined with her unnervingly accurate taunts to what had happened, he'd thought she could read his mind. It wasn't a wholly inaccurate assumption to make, he reasoned, given the various power displays he had witnessed from her over the few times he had interacted with her.

It also didn't help that for the first time in what had to be well over a millennia, Thor was feeling jealousy.

He'd hardly had a chance to exchange words with Asynja back on Vanaheim what with the attack, and when he'd finally had the chance to visit her in the healing ward he had overheard her and his brother chatting quite congenially in a brash manor about woo-ing handmaidens and flirting about keeping each other company in exile. He had been so startled by their laughter that he'd had to walk away for a short while and reassure himself that of course they would have easy banter, the two had been friends as small children.

Alas, this caused him to stress over what she still remembered, as when he had -loudly- entered the healing ward, the princess hadn't kept that easy banter with him. She had been proper and formal, still quick-witted, but had none of that vulgarity she had shared with his brother. He had found at the time however, that he didn't mind it all too much because the way Asynja gazed at him had left him short of breath.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a cloud of white cherry blossoms rained down over the great hall.

Thor watched as Asynja gasped in delight and spun around in the falling petals. She slowed, panting lightly from the dancing and laughter and her face broke into an angelic smile, eyes lit up like starlight just as they had in the healing ward when she looked upon him before. This time however, she was watching his brother.

He felt his features drop.

Thor's blood turned to a boil as Loki beamed cheekily in response to the princess. He lightly nodded his head to the falling petals and shrugged his shoulders smugly.

"They love her already." Queen Frigga remarked to him as she appeared from within the crowd and came to stand by his side.

"They do," he agreed.

Frigga raised an eyebrow. "But you are hesitant?"

Thor turned to glance at his mother, startled by her intuition.

Frigga sighed, her eyes flashed knowingly. "You are standing here. For as long as you've been alive if you truly wanted something there would be no keeping you from it."

"I cannot join her," Thor insisted, glancing around. "This is a dance for maidens."

His mother offered him a withering stare.

"The thing about songs, my son, is that they end." Frigga reminded him.

As if at the queen's command, the happy-go-lucky folk tune slowed to its final notes. Thor fought the urge to sneer at his mother for being right.

"I- I was cruel to her," he admitted and ducked his head in shame. "I don't know how to speak to her."

"You could start by talking," Frigga replied aptly.

Thor frowned and watched Asynja on the dance floor, laughing with some serving girl that she had invited to dance. They were struggling to balance on each other as they tried to slip their shoes back on their feet.

 _Dashing and calm_ , he reminded himself as he approached the princess. This was his chance to fix the colossal damage he'd caused to their budding relationship- assuming there was still a bud left.

"Asynja," he said her name, his voice significantly softer than his usual volume.

She froze at the sound of her name- or perhaps more accurately, the sound of Thor speaking her name.

The serving girl squeaked in surprise and fell on her rear.

Asynja tilted her head back and cackled at the display of clumsiness. Her eyes widened in shock at her unladylike behaviour and she slapped a hand over her mouth to hold the giggles in.

Thor grinned at her boisterous reaction.

"Fair maiden," he said, turning to the girl on the floor, and extended his hand towards her. "You appear to be in need of assistance."

The serving girl stared blankly at him for several moments before gathering her bearings and accepting Thor's hand. As soon as he pulled her upright, the serving girl grabbed her shoes and remained bent over an a bow as she backed away. "My thanks, your grace," she stuttered and fled the dance floor.

"Poor dear," Asynja mused, watching after the fleeing girl. When the girl was out of sight, she fixed her gaze back on Thor. "I don't think she expected a prince to come to her rescue."

Thor chuckled and shifted to grasp onto his forearm. He was unsure if he were even capable of finding the right words to deliver an appropriate apology.

"I was hoping we could talk," he tried.

Asynja cocked an eyebrow at him, her features turned sharp and imposing. "Did you now?"

"Could we..." he trailed off, nodding his head to the doors.

The dull look of disenchantment she offered him in turn felt like a kick to the gut, but she nodded nonetheless and started a slow, meandering pace to the exit.

Thor followed after her, his shoulders tense with anxiety as silence filled the space between him. They were royals: he couldn't publicly admit any wrongdoings to her, and vice versa she would not be able to react honestly in fear of sparking gossip. He had killed any opportunity for easy small talk earlier that night and was forced to suffer her silent treatment until they could have privacy.

He could at least attempt to please her though."You, er, you're a truly magnificent dancer."

"Thank you," she replied curtly.

Thor was not entirely sure if her thanks was directed at him as the door attendants had allowed them to pass through as she spoke.

She continued through the busy foyer and deeper into the palace until the crowds had dissipated and only an occasional guard would walk by. Asynja stopped in front of an ornate window of stained glass and trailed her fingers over the raised metal channels between the warped, colourful glass.

"I-" Thor paused, repeating what he wanted to say in his head before he spoke. "I shouldn't have said... what I said to you."

"Oh?" She asked sardonically, opting to further examine the intricacy of the window than look at him.

Thor groaned quietly to himself. Apologies were not his strong suit.

"There were other ways I could have handled this," he tried again.

"Handled what?" Asynja whipped her head around to glare at him, eyes blazing green. "You'd best not mean me."

Thor panicked and raised his hands. "No! Not at all! I-I meant this whole situation! And me. I ... don't really know how to handle myself half the time."

Her face softened at his admission. "Well, you're doing a better job of it now."

"Really?"

She weakly chuckled at his exuberance. "Talking, sharing, honesty. That's the foundation of a good relationship," she tossed her hair back over her shoulders. "You do know we're supposed to get married, right?"

Thor flushed and hoped she wouldn't bring up the dalliance she had witnessed. "Believe me, I know."

She bit her lip and scanned his face. He wasn't sure what emotion she was searching for there, but he could sense very little within himself other than shame.

"I know you had a life before I got here," she started.

"It's not li-

She ignored his injection and continued over him. "But, don't you think we owe it to each other, to our families, to our people to give it a chance?"

Thor paused. She _did_ like him?

"You want to give us a chance?" He questioned out loud. The words played over in his head and he felt the shame within him fade away as a new, tingling emotion- _hope_ \- took root.

Asynja smirked at him. "That is why I'm here. The added protection of staying in your realm is just a bonus, really."

"But what about-" he stopped himself from bringing up his brother. "What about when we were children? You never brought it up."

She furrowed her brows. "What happened when we were children?"

"You don't remember?"

"Thor, I was seven. That was what- eight hundred and... thirty two years ago?"

"Oh."

"But you remember. It's clearly bothering you," she encouraged.

"I don't think we need to revisit it," Thor began to back away until he noticed the blankness return to her face. He cringed. Talking, sharing, honesty; that was what she wanted.

"Okay, fine. When I was a boy my mother would read me fairy tales to sleep. My favourites were always about the gallant knight winning the favour of the beautiful princess and slaying the beast-"

"Problematic, but go on," Asynja chimed in.

Thor felt the corner of his lips quirk up at her injection. "So you can imagine how quickly I fell when the prettiest girl in all the nine realms came to visit; and, my mother tells me she's not just a princess, that she was going to be a queen and that I was the lucky boy who would one day marry her."

He watched her cheeks flush petal pink and felt his own face heat up in response.

"I needed to make a good impression on you, and I didn't know how. I was older than you, so we were separated. I would see you at dinners, but as children we weren't encouraged to chat over the adults. A few weeks in our fathers had planned a hunting trip and they decided I was old enough to join them. I had it in my head that I was a gallant knight off to slay a beast, and therefore would be the hero you would fall in love with.

"You were always paired up with Loki for lessons and training, so I used him to get to you. I told him to retrieve your favour and bring it to me so I could carry it for luck into battle. In retrospect, I probably should have realized this was a bad idea after the snake incident which happened not long before you arrived."

"Wait-" Asynja cut in, her eyes bright with amusement. "What's the snake incident?"

"Another time," he assured her. "So the morning of the hunting trip Loki comes to my chambers with a little velvet sack, and in it was a lock of your hair. I was ten, I was over the moon, clearly this meant you loved me. The whole trip I was showing off your favour to any guard or warrior who would listen, most knights got handkerchiefs or flowers, but you liked me enough to give me a part of yourself. Except you hadn't.

"When we got back from the hunting trip the next day you were nowhere to be found. When you finally showed up for the celebrations that night you wore a black veil over your head- all your hair had been hacked off during your sleep."

" _No,"_ Asynja gasped in horror and reached a hand to her flowing, effervescent mane

"See I don't know how you don't remember this, given your reaction," Thor pointed out lightheartedly.

"I probably blocked it from my memory," she remarked, still stroking her hair.

"Being ten, I didn't think anything was wrong with you wearing a veil, so I ran to tell you tales of rabbit-slaughtering glory and to thank you for your favour."

"Oh no-"

"You screamed at me for a truly astounding length of time."

"Sounds about right."

"And then you declared you would never marry me and hate me until they day you left for the halls of Valhalla."

Asynja brought her hands to her mouth to hide what appeared to be a prideful smile. "I broke your ten year old heart."

"Crushed by my first love," Thor admitted teasingly.

He couldn't ignore the swelling sensation in his chest when their eyes met and all the coolness between them had evaporated.

"So you've been scared of me for the past eight-hundred something years?" She gloated, seemingly thrilled by Thor's tale.

"Terrified," he affirmed, and took a small step to diminish the space between them.

"You know," the princess badgered, "there's a lesson to be learned here."

"Is there?"

"If you had come to talk to me yourself, all of this mess could have been avoided. Both times." The pointed look she gave him suggested that she would be holding that to him.

"I will remember that," he nodded. "So you're okay with everything I've done? You would be willing to put all of this behind us then? To give us a chance?"

Asynja cocked an eyebrow and appraised him with a once over.

"No."

Thor gaped.

"You were an ass, you'll just have to accept that," she shrugged, then took a step forward, closing the last of the space between them. "Luckily, I've already accepted that and I except to see you in the training grounds bright and early tomorrow so I can take out the last of my frustrations on you. After that; then, we can give it a chance." She patted him lightly on the bicep and slipped away from him, beginning her saunter down the hall, her shoes still dangling from her left hand.

"Goodnight Thor!"

He watched, slack-jawed as she waltzed away.


End file.
